


Hold a Handful of Sand

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Fujicest, Incest, M/M, Porn Battle, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-29
Updated: 2010-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-06 19:33:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuuta isn't someone who'll permit himself to be held, but there are ways of coping with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold a Handful of Sand

**Author's Note:**

> Adult! Smut with brothers who love each other very much. For [Porn Battle IX](http://oxoniensis.dreamwidth.org/26521.html), prompt: Fuji/Yuuta, possessiveness. 1562 words.

The mistake Shuusuke had made with Yuuta in the first place was in thinking that Yuuta was someone who would allow himself to be held. By anyone, really, and not just Shuusuke himself, though Yuuta had been especially resistant to him. The scope of Yuuta's independent streak was astonishing, really, and matched only by the sheer depth of his stubbornness. Put together, they worked synergistically, obstinacy feeding into the will to go his own way, until there were times that Shuusuke had felt sure that Yuuta would have rather slit his own throat than let himself be known as "Fuji's little brother," let alone living under the same roof as him or attending the same school.

Shuusuke didn't miss those days at all.

Even now, with all that well behind them, Shuusuke didn't like to think of the years of Yuuta's sullen distance and anger, or the fruitless attempts he'd made to bridge the gap between them. It was just as well, since Yuuta didn't seem to, either. But then, neither of them had been at their best during that time, loath as Shuusuke was to admit it. Just as well that it was behind them now.

And best not to dwell too closely on the orthodoxy, or lack thereof, in the way they'd managed to figure each other out. But it was a rather pleasant solution, if Shuusuke did say so himself.

Yuuta brought his intensity to everything, including the bedroom, which was something Shuusuke could appreciate now, even with the knowledge of how demanding certain moods of Yuuta's could be. For instance, this: Yuuta was under him, long limbs stretched out and tan against Shuusuke's sheets. His hips were rocking against Shuusuke's fingers, driving down against them, and he was very nearly fucking himself on them without any effort on Shuusuke's part. It was really very hot to look at and consider the abandon in the way Yuuta's hips flexed, sinuous, and the sounds that escaped his throat, hitching gasps and tiny moans, as they did.

So much for taking it slow, Shuusuke supposed, and drove his fingers up into Yuuta hard, curling them at the precise angle it took to make Yuuta cry out. Yuuta did, hoarse, arching against the bed and fisting a hand in the sheets. His throat was taut, nearly vibrating with the sounds he made, and that presented Shuusuke with an idea. He bent down to lap at Yuuta's throat as he slid his fingers in and out of Yuuta, matching the demanding rhythm of Yuuta's hips and twisting them inside him, ruthless and sure.

Yuuta didn't beg--not even in bed, not even like this--but his groans took on a desperate edge as his hips moved against Shuusuke's fingers. That was what Shuusuke wanted, and he bit down on the juncture of Yuuta's throat and shoulder as he slid his other hand down to Yuuta's cock and fondled it. Yuuta groaned again, crying out for him, and bucked under him, shaking the entire bed as he came. Shuusuke watched him: the way Yuuta threw his head back against the pillows, lips parted and eyes closed, every muscle in him drawn tight with his pleasure, and then the sudden limpness of him as the pleasure subsided and left him panting and pliant against the sheets. "Fuck, Aniki," he breathed, eventually, and opened his eyes. He stirred, and made a low sound when Shuusuke shifted his fingers inside him. "Ah..."

Shuusuke stroked them a little deeper. "Yes?" he said, softly, watching Yuuta.

Some of the haziness left Yuuta's eyes, and he grinned up at Shuusuke, lazily. "Hell yes," he said, reaching up to settle a hand on Shuusuke's nape. He pulled Shuusuke down to kiss him, hot and slick, sucking on his tongue and making pleased sounds as Shuusuke's fingers slid against him, easing his body open again.

That was the other thing about Yuuta: he had astonishing reserves of energy, and a remarkably short recovery period to match. It was baffling, and Shuusuke wondered sometimes how Yuuta managed it, though he had his suspicions about its connection to Yuuta's endless appetites for sugar.

Not that he was about to complain about Yuuta's readiness in the slightest, of course.

It would be foolish of him to question anything about the grace of having Yuuta here in his bed like this, for more reasons than he cared to think about, especially when it was still like receiving an unexpected, unlooked for gift every time he reached out to Yuuta and Yuuta answered him. Or, in this case, hooked a leg around Shuusuke's hips and stroked his bare toes against Shuusuke's calf, and said, husky, "Come on and fuck me already, Aniki."

"How could I possibly resist an invitation like that?" Shuusuke replied, as dryly as he could manage, given the circumstances and the heat throbbing along his every nerve.

Yuuta just laughed.

That laugh changed into a husky, wanting sound as Shuusuke slicked his fingers over himself and settled between Yuuta's thighs, fitting his hands under Yuuta and lifting his hips. "Yeah," Yuuta breathed, hands sliding down Shuusuke's back, and then he groaned as Shuusuke pushed into him. "Oh, yeah, Aniki..."

Shuusuke groaned, too, at the tightness of Yuuta around him and the richness of Yuuta's voice urging him on. "Yuuta," he said, and shuddered as Yuuta shifted under him, wrapping his legs around Shuusuke's hips and drawing him deeper. There were whole worlds of things he wanted to say, but they were all too enormous for words, and all he could manage was his brother's name, low and reverent.

"Yeah," Yuuta said, soft and breathless, and wound his arms around Shuusuke's shoulders, drawing him down again and kissing him like he understood what Shuusuke meant anyway.

It was Yuuta; maybe he did.

Shuusuke moved against him slowly, panting with the tight grip of Yuuta's body and the sureness of Yuuta's kisses, pleasure twining through him with every stroke. Yuuta moved with him, rocking up to meet the slide of Shuusuke's cock, and kneaded his hands against Shuusuke's back. The roughness of Yuuta's calluses rasped against Shuusuke's skin and dragged heat along his nerves, and Yuuta's fingers were strong where they dug into his shoulders. This time round, Yuuta was willing to be patient, and he let Shuusuke take him slowly, until they were both panting for breath and trembling with the pleasure running through them, hovering on the verge of coming apart with it. That was when he whispered, "Aniki..." as he slid a hand away from Shuusuke's shoulder and reached it down between them. He closed his fist around his cock and stroked himself firmly, and groaned openly as he came apart.

Shuusuke panted, watching the glitter in Yuuta's eyes, still looking up at him from beneath his lashes, even when pleasure swept across his expression again. "Yuuta," he said, helplessly, as Yuuta's body wrung tighter around his. That was all it took to undo the last precarious bits of his control, and he groaned as heat and pleasure crashed down on him, reveling in the sweetness of Yuuta spread out under him, moaning for him, as the world dissolved around him.

Yuuta was holding him when he began to gather himself again, his long fingers running through Shuusuke's hair. He didn't say anything, not until Shuusuke shifted himself, rearranging matters a bit to lie more comfortably against Yuuta. Then he sighed, low and content, as Shuusuke pressed his mouth against the place where Yuuta's pulse beat at the hollow of his throat, and murmured, "That was good."

"Yeah," Shuusuke agreed, and they lapsed into silence again.

They stayed like that for a while, until Yuuta sighed again, and stirred. "Should get going, I guess."

"Mm, I suppose," Shuusuke said, because there was no point in saying that Yuuta was welcome to stay as long as he liked, no matter how much he would have liked to. Yuuta knew perfectly well that he _could_ stay, but that wasn't the point. He didn't care to, or--more likely--he needed to prove that he could leave. That Shuusuke would let him leave.

Shuusuke wasn't entirely certain which one of them Yuuta was trying to convince.

Either way, Yuuta took his time about untangling himself from Shuusuke and with the business of cleaning himself up and finding his clothes. Shuusuke thought that it was starting to take him longer to do that, every time, and was even pretty sure that it wasn't wishful thinking on his part. He curled himself on the bed to watch Yuuta do it, and didn't say anything till Yuuta stooped over the bed and he raised himself to kiss Yuuta goodbye. "See you later," he said, against Yuuta's mouth.

"Yeah," Yuuta said, mouth quirking a little ruefully and eyes softening just a bit. "Later." Then he saw himself out, and Shuusuke settled back against his pillows with a sigh.

Yuuta could not be held, would not permit it, but if a person let him go when he wished to go, then he could be counted on to come back when he was ready. And one of these days, perhaps, he would begin to trust that Shuusuke truly had learned that lesson, and would consent to stay.

Shuusuke was looking forward to that day, and he thought, sometimes, that Yuuta was, too.


End file.
